


Spot of Mummery - Part 1: Coming Together

by Spot of Mummery (Aywren)



Series: Spot of Mummery [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Adventure, Allag, Allagan, Crystal Tower, Fantasy, Gen, Mummery, Syrcus Tower
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-11-14
Packaged: 2019-08-06 12:13:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 16,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16387514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aywren/pseuds/Spot%20of%20Mummery
Summary: Amon was once the celebrated lead Technomancer of the ancient civilization of Allag. A loyal citizen to the crazed Emperor Xande, he was defeated when the Alliance, lead by the Warrior of Light, stormed Sycrus Tower......or so the world thought...Through his own ingenuity, has Amon survived the second fall of the Tower. Now, an Allagan of once-immeasurable power walks among the children of Eorzea. Only... things didn't quite work out the way Amon had planned.





	1. Preface

**[[Amon's RPC Profile](https://wiki.ffxiv-roleplayers.com/pages/Amon_D%27syrcus)] [[Amon's History](https://spotofmummery.tumblr.com/history)] [[Why Amon?](https://spotofmummery.tumblr.com/why_amon)]**

 

**Author's Notes**

This project began as an attempt to write a short story for Camp NaNoWriMo in July 2018. I also wrote this in part to see if I could create a foundation for an RP character, Amon D'Syrcus, that I'd rolled on the Mateus server a year earlier. The current story and RP are hosted at my Tumblr: [SpotOfMummery](https://spotofmummery.tumblr.com) but I wanted to have an archive of this writing somewhere else, too. So here it is!  

**Some Headcanon**

While I will strive to follow FFXIV canon and lore as much as I can in writing this story, everything from the defeat and revival of Amon is obviously my own headcanon. I’ll pull as much from the wikis and Encyclopedia Eorzea on the topic of Amon’s past, but there’s not a whole lot known about the details of Amon’s character. 

Amon is noted in several places as a technomancer and a mage of the Allagan Empire. He also has a flair for dramatics, and his magic has either musical (Forte) or theatrical (Curtain Call) names. He was a strange bird in the past. Probably still is.

Keep in mind that what we know of the Allagan Empire seems to point to a sense of moral bankrupcy for the people as a whole. They were brilliant, powerful, and at one point controlled much of the world. And yet, the lore said once the people felt safe in their power, they turned to indulging their whims and desires in leisure and luxury. 

Amon was a product of this world with little morality. He saw the decline of his people and wasn’t content to watch everything fall apart. Though it’s not clear what his position was in the Empire, he had enough clout to obtain the materials he needed and run his experiments on living subjects. The lore says he even experimented on himself… though the outcome of that wasn’t detailed. 

From these stories, I’ve gleaned that Amon was:

  * Fiercely determined to save the Allagans from their own folly
  * Loyal to Xande enough to give his life to protect him in Syrcus Tower
  * Malicious when crossed
  * Willing to conduct torture and experimentation in the name of the Empire
  * Flamboyant and whimsical, given to theatrics
  * Powerful enough to create clones, transfer life energy to revive the dead, twist minds, and stop time for the entire Syrcus Tower



**But Amon also watched his entire life’s work fail in the end…**

First Xande was consumed with madness caused by his resurrection. This eventually led to the fall of Syrcus Tower, which signaled the end of the Allagan Empire Amon so struggled to nurture.

Yet, Amon apparently remained loyal to Xande despite this. When NOAH revived the tower during the 2.0 story line of FFXIV, Amon then gave his life in a failed attempt to stop the Alliance from reaching Xande. And Xande was ultimately defeated. 

Everything Amon did amounted to nothing in the end, and Syrcus Tower was placed back into stasis. 

**But what if… Amon didn’t die in the Tower?**

This was a man who knew how to transfer life-aether into cloned bodies to bring the dead back to life. We saw it over and over in Syrcus Tower, even in Xande himself.  

What if Amon knew there was a good chance he would fall in battle against the Alliance of Hydaelyn’s Chosen? What if he was ready for that, and set a transfer for his own aether upon his defeat? 

If Amon escaped the fall of the tower, how would he adapt to a life after his own time and death? The cloned form he took is probably not strong enough to allow him the powers he had in his previous life. Not yet…

And then there’s the little problem of what happens to a mind and spirit that’s scarred by the experience of death. This drove Xande into a state of such nihilism that he made a pact with the Cloud of Darkness, seeking to deliver the world to the void. 

Amon knows the danger of the procedure he carried out on himself… but will he be exempt from the darkness that eventually consumed the Allagan nation?

Join me to find out! 


	2. An Emperor’s Madness

Ever since Amon had returned to the living world, he’d found sleeping difficult. His dreams were always memories. Or maybe, his memories came in dreams.

It played out in endless repetition, a cold march through time. Over and over and over. He was always helpless to stop or change what happened, even when he knew exactly how it would all end.

“Your Majesty!” his voice exclaimed every time, “What have you done?”

It was the first and last time Amon verbally questioned the Emperor in such an outspoken way. After all, it wasn’t every day that one learned their leader had just sold out the world to the voidsent.

When Xande’s white, fevered eyes turned to fix him, Amon immediately regretted his slip. The words hung in the air, dangling like a man at the end of a noose. He knew very well that it was his neck in that rope.

Not that the Allagans used such primal methods of execution. There were far, far worse ways to kill a man. Or not kill him and let suffering linger. Amon knew all about that.

Instead of condemning his technologist, Xande did something worse. He answered the question.

“I have seen what waits beyond the veil of death.” His voice was low and rumbling, the stones of the Tower trembling around him with gravity. “There is nothing, Amon.”

The Elezen didn’t know how to respond to that. Even though Amon had witnessed this scene play out so many times in his dreams, he still didn’t have words to give.

Instead, the him-of-memories sought to move away from the uncomfortable topic. To please the Emperor.

“Forgive me, Your Majesty. You have greater things weighing your mind than my silly tripes.” Amon cracked a showman’s smile and gestured grandly with his hands. “Let me take your woes away with a song… a story…?”

He was grasping for straws he knew.

Xande wasn’t swayed. He just sat on his cold throne, his body like something chiseled from rock itself. His voice repeated, “There is nothing.”

Amon let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

His life’s work was before him, fragmenting away into madness. No one else dared to whisper, but he knew. Though he had no emotional connection to Xande aside from a retainer’s loyalty, the Emperor was still, in a way, his creation.

And a creator always knew.

Things had been fine at first. Xande’s aether had transferred into the cloned body as successfully as Amon could have hoped. It was an especially tricky procedure given how much time had passed since Xande was entombed.

But Xande did return. And he did pick the stumbling Allagan Empire up out of the dust.

He shook the people out of their stupor and inspired armies to rise again. The Allagans marched over the continents and claimed the world for their own once more. The Crystal Tower sat at the heart of all of Hydaelyn, a symbol of the majesty born of science and magic fused into one.

Amon had never been happier. Never felt more fulfilled than seeing his Xande make all his dreams reality. How could he not become loyal to the wonderful thing his mind had made?

But then… something dark crept over Xande. Something unforeseeable.

It started small at first. The darkening of a gaze. Sleepless nights. Mood swings. Sharp, reckless orders. Angry outbursts.

Then, the worst… long sessions of brooding and silence.

Amon tried to lift his Emperor’s spirits. After all, he wasn’t just a mage and scientist. He fancied himself a whimsy of a performer, and had studied acting just as much as machines and aethermancy.

But this was beyond mortal hands to fix. Something was broken. Death had left its mark, and Xande had not returned to the world of the living as he’d left it.

The Emperor’s fevered ambition and deepening madness only grew. But none had expected it to drive Xande to making a bargain with the Cloud of Darkness.

Amon watched helplessly as the very thing he brought to save their people transformed into something that would undo them all.

“But look,” Amon tried to reason, just as he did every time this memory played. “You’ve accomplished so much. No other man has ever–”

“IT IS NOTHING!” Xande’s face contorted, a huge fist slamming on the arm of his throne. Had it been made of anything less than crystal, it would have crumbled under the force. “ALL OF IT! LET THE VOID TAKE IT!”

Amon fell silent, seeing that anything he said would only enrage the Emperor further. He may have been Xande’s closest adviser, and the one who had given him a second chance at life, but even he wasn’t immune.  

This was usually where the dream-memory ended. It left a residue of awkward stiffness in Amon’s mind as he shook off the unwanted sleep.

But this time, something changed.

This time, Xande collected himself, his gaze growing coherent for a moment. He looked at Amon… really looked at him… as if he was reaching beyond the memory and into reality.

“It’s already begun for you, Amon.” His voice almost sounded sad. Tired. A once-shining hero fallen to darkness due to influences far beyond his control.

This was all new.

“What?” Amon found himself able to independently speak. So much that he wanted to ask, and all he could manage was one pathetic word.

“You will join me in darkness soon,” Xande’s lips folded grimly.

**—**

Amon woke up, disoriented, body laced in a chilled sweat. That twisted face was burned into his mind. The words, the voice…

Glancing around, he determined that was where he left himself – in the inn room of Gridania. The lack of light outside the windows told him it was still the early hours.

When his new body finally decided to obey him -  _this is still a work in progress_  - he dropped his feet to the floor, sitting perched on the edge of bed. He dropped his face in his hands -  _a very natural reaction, good_  - and sat there, collecting his thoughts for a long time.

Amon knew exactly what Xande was trying to tell him. He didn’t want to listen, but that didn’t make it any less true.

He hadn’t had a lot of time to set up his own return. The method he used was untested. There was no one there to guide the transference of aether into the clone this time. It was a miracle it had worked at all.

That he was alive.

Brought back by the very same method that had driven Xande to madness.

_You will join me in the darkness soon._

[~Tumblr~](https://spotofmummery.tumblr.com/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amon D'Syrcus and friends are my in-game characters can be found on the Mateus RP server in FFXIV. You can also check out https://spotofmummery.tumblr.com to see more Allagan Nonsense, character memes, or interact with Amon if that pleases you!


	3. Life After Death

Going back to sleep was not happening, so Amon decided to take a walk to clear his head. It was still dark outside, but he knew the hovel of Gridania was as safe and well-guarded as a backwater place could be.

He didn’t escape the notice of the tavern keeper, Miounne, as he stepped out of his room.

_One has to wonder if she ever sleeps._

“Is everything okay, Amon?” she asked, peering over the top of paperwork she was sorting.

Amon had been around there long enough to be on a first name basis with a few of the locals. Her concern for him was genuine, as it was for all travelers who passed through.

_She’s quite a dear, really._

“Yes,” he answered smoothly, offering a half smile to accent the lie. “Just decided to take in some morning air, if that’s alright.”

“By all means,” Miounne responded quickly. She was used to this sort of thing. “Let me know if you need anything.”

“Thank you,” Amon gave a very slight bow before heading out.

***

The sound of rushing water passing through the creaking waterwheel was lulling. The wind shifting through the ancient trees cast about the fragrance of flowers and life. Though the moon hung heavy on the horizon, the rustic peace of Gridania was still in every breath Amon took.

Things were fuzzy after the battle in the Tower. He wasn’t fully certain how he’d ended up in Gridania, but a part of him was grateful for it.

It was a good starting point for someone who’d lost his way. A larger city might have been too much for his new body’s senses to acclimate to. Sometimes the smallest, easiest things he used to take for granted were now an imposing challenge.

_So many bugs to work out._

Amon was starting from nothing in a land that had changed so much that he no longer knew it. Allag, the empire he’d lived in his whole life, was now nothing more than legends and history to excavate. In fact, from what he gathered, the Allagan Empire was thought to be nothing but a fairytale until only just recently.

_How could everything glorious we built… all we accomplished… amount to nothing more than a bedtime story for the people of this future?_

Not knowing what else to do, Amon chose to embed himself into the local culture. He knew nothing about these primitive people or their nations. But he had to learn if he was going to survive.

_Maybe Xande was right. It **is**  all for nothing…_

Amon stopped that train of thought quickly, pressing his hands to his temples. He gulpled in warm air, a reminder that he was alive.

_No… I can’t let…_

The sound of creaking armor from an approaching Wood Wailer was loud in his ears, warning him that he wasn’t alone. He forced himself into a more casual stance as the figure rounded the corner. The guard simply walked by, ignorant of Amon’s internal meltdown, even giving the Elezen a nod as his patrol took him down the cobbled paths.

Amon nodded back, fighting to keep his expression neutral. He couldn’t let any of this show. The last thing he could afford was to raise warning flags among the populace.

_That’s right… I’m nothing but a common, average adventurer… just looking to live hand to mouth._

That, at least, had a slight ring of truth to it.

Seeing that there were plenty of jobs for adventurers in this town, Amon took the opportunity to blend in. The people were used to travelers moving about, as long as those travelers provided some benefit for the town. That seemed fair enough.

Though his options were limited, Amon chose to take up training at the Archer’s Guild. There, he found a chance to physically hone his mind-body coordination through a rather focused and relaxing sport.

Once he worked up to it, he took on odd jobs. There were plenty to go about. From basic hunting to culling to reinforcing the guard… Amon managed to make enough to survive and pay his room and board. In the meantime, he was earning a name with the right people, learning how to function in this new society… and was even… possibly… moving towards applying to the Grand Company.

Yes, this was all a huge fall from grace for someone like him. He couldn’t say that he was pleased with this station in life. But Amon  _was_ alive. And until he got his head on his shoulders, he didn’t have a lot of options.

_And now, this happens…_

Dark dreams. Darker future. The past closing in on him, dragging him back into the grave. There would be no making a new, better life for Amon.

That was not the justice of this world.

_The past doesn’t forget wickedness of my sort…_

No, Amon didn’t deserve a quiet life among the peasants. Or even the life of someone who worked up to greatness again.

Deep down, he knew he hadn’t really changed. If he saw an opportunity to transcend, he’d drop all this common-folk stuff in a heartbeat. It never mattered who he had to step on to get the things he wanted… why was that any different now?

_What am I doing here… trying to fool these people… and fool myself? Just waiting in my quiet inn room for madness to come and rip me apart?_

One fist balled at his side, a motion his body made on its own.

_Even you agree with me, don’t you? We’re made for things so much greater than this._

A deeper perspective fell into place as the last of the fireflies began to fade into the oncoming morning. Amon breathed in the air one last time. He knew what he had to do.

_If there’s to be a curtain call, I’m going to make it a show this world will **never**  forget._

[~Tumblr~](https://spotofmummery.tumblr.com)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amon D'Syrcus and friends are my in-game characters can be found on the Mateus RP server in FFXIV. You can also check out https://spotofmummery.tumblr.com to see more Allagan Nonsense, character memes, or interact with Amon if that pleases you!


	4. When One Door Closes…

Amon didn’t waste time gathering up what little belongings and gil he had. He checked out of the inn – he didn’t plan on returning to Gridania – and found a reputable shop where he could pick up a travelling map.

So much about this world had changed. He didn’t even know his way back to Syrcus Tower from where he was now. But after a little chat and an exchange of gil for a sketchy map, he had a better idea of the path that lay ahead.

“Aye, that Crystal Tower. I’ve heard of it,” the shopkeeper told him. “Get yourself to Mor Dhona and you won’t be able to miss it. A right bright monolith in the sky.”

This eased something in Amon’s mind. Just a little.

_These people may not know their history, but they do respect Allagan majesty when they see it._

The shopkeeper was right. And so was the map.

Amon hired a chocobo porter for as far as he could afford. This carried him through the forest, and into deep, unnatural snows, then finally to a blighted, aether-soaked land. The area they now called Mor Dhona.

This had once been Amon’s home. A place he remembered covered in lush beauty, untame forests and rushing waterfalls. There had once been vast, majestic gardens that lined the walks at the base of the Tower, and a settlement that sheltered snuggly in the Tower’s light… where his family once lived.

All that was gone now, twisted and broken. He didn’t know if that was due to the fall of the Tower… or something that had happened more recently. But it sparked a pang of sadness within him.

There was truly little left of his world.

He spent no time in the roughly hewn settlement the Eorzeans had built there. Nothing in Revenant’s Toll held any interest for him.

Nothing… because in the distance, he saw it. Just as promised. A beacon from the ancient past – the Crystal Tower. It stood, still brilliant, still a light in the darkness, with the stars shimmering all around it.

 

Amon felt a powerful yearning within, something calling him home. He was unable to take his eyes from the Tower for a very long time. Then, he shook himself out.

_Not a time to get sentimental. I need to get inside. If I can just get to my tools… my research… my lab…_

He steeled himself, stabled the rental chocobo, then took the path that appeared to lead towards his destination.

*******

Things did not work out the way Amon had hoped.

Not only was the path winding and deceptive, with all of its broken crystals and dead ends, but filthy creatures of all sorts roamed the lands. Beasts that would have been hunted and purged back in his days had they even  _dared_  to show their ugly faces.

These roads had once been safe. Now, you could hardly even call it a trail.

In his previous form, Amon would have feared nothing that lurked in the aether. But while his archery skills were meager enough to hunt small game in the Shroud, it wouldn’t keep him safe from the monstrosities that fouled the area.

He spent most of his time sneaking and hiding among the crystal outcroppings, which was no easy feat seeing that he got turned around time and again. Finally, after several close calls, he found what he was looking for.

A lopsided door, mostly concealed in stone, but very much with the mark of Allagan handiwork.

This door was already open. No doubt, this was due to the explorers who came through the Labyrinth moons earlier. He could see the tracks of many people that had passed along this path, which lead around the sheer side of a cliff.

Amon sucked in his breath as he took it all in.

_They were clever enough to break our outer defenses. Strong enough to clear out the Labyrinth. Powerful enough to take down Xande…_

He furrowed his brow as he strode through the shattered remains of the statues that had once stood guard there.

_So, where are they now? Why aren’t they still here?_

Amon knew his way through the depths of the Labyrinth. It was still as strong in his memory as it had been eons ago.

The walls were dark and the chamber was silent now. Empty. Everything that was set there to defend against intruders hand been slain. It was a marvel to believe that people so ignorant of the past were so proficient at overcoming it.

_Or maybe not. These… Warriors of Light… No one said they had to have much upstairs to do this kind of dirty work._

Though he knew the passage well, it took time to reach the base of the Tower itself. When Amon finally arrived, he stopped short, peering at what loomed far above him.

“No…” His voice came as a hoarse whisper.

The doors to the Tower were shut.

Hissing, Amon rushed up to them. He knew what this could mean, but he still had to try. For science. Pressing both hands against the ornate surface, he pushed.

And pushed.

And pushed.

And cursed.

And pushed.

And… nothing happened.

“No!” He miserably demanded of the unmoving doors. “ _No!_  How could they have sealed it?”

He knew as well as anyone… that once sealed, these doors would only budge for someone who carried the bloodlines of Allagan royalty. And for all his pomp and presumptions, Amon was not one of those people.

An embarrassingly broken sound passed his lips as he crumpled slightly, both palms still pressed against the cold metal. Amon would not be seeing his research… his lab… his tools… none of it. He would not have the means to restore his strength and implant what he needed in this weak body to conduct the kind of power he once had.

Oh no. The world had other plans. And those plans did not include the rise of a mad Allagan technologist who sought to rend the land from end to end to satiate his misery.

Thwarted, there was nothing left for Amon to do but leave. Well, he could have remained there and wasted away at the door. But its mockery was too much for his pride to bear.

Instead, he dejectedly wandered back out the way he came, then flopped himself out in the middle of rustic-Mor-Dhona-nowhere. Maybe a stray monster would want a snack.

_That’s about all I’m good for right now._

The teasing light of Syrcus Tower silently shown down over him… as if to agree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amon D'Syrcus and friends are my in-game characters can be found on the Mateus RP server in FFXIV. You can also check out https://spotofmummery.tumblr.com to see more Allagan Nonsense, character memes, or interact with Amon if that pleases you!


	5. The Most Gruesome Creature

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcoming a new character in this chapter! Time to get Amon interacting with other folks.

 

“Hello? Are you all right?”

An unfamiliar voice woke Amon with a start.

_Did I fall asleep? In the middle of Mor Dhona wilderness?_

When he peered around, it sure seemed that way.

_And I’m still alive? Drat my poor fortune!_

“Sir?” The voice prompted him again.

This time Amon looked up… straight into the face of the most gruesome creature he’d ever seen. He wasn’t a timid soul, and had seen his share of lab-jacket rejects, but this sight caused him to jerk back.

“Did I startle you? I’m so sorry!”

The voice – decidedly a female voice – was coming from the creature’s mouth. Some conglomeration of girl and dragon-void smooshed all together, she could have been something that came straight out of the Labyrinth.  

Everything about her was alabaster. Ivory skin. Colorless hair. Horns? Snow-white… scales? Are those scales?And a tail? Really? Hair, scales, and tail?

_What manner of creature **is**  she?_

If she noticed his scrutiny, which she probably didn’t due to the inability to see his upper face, she didn’t respond. Instead, she gave what appeared to be a genuine smile of relief.

“I thought maybe you were dead when I first saw you propped up over here.” At this point, she was talking for her own sake, since Amon hadn’t replied yet. “What are you even doing?”

Getting over his initial response of distaste, Amon finally answered with a surprisingly truthful statement, “I came to see the Tower.”

“Oh?” Her eyes lit up. Well, brighter than they were a moment before. The only part of her that wasn’t devoid of color, her eyes shown a bright orange. Even in the coming daylight, they held a strange internal glow. “You came out here to seek the stories, too?”

_Too?_

Amon should have known there was danger in the word. But he still said, “Something of that sort.”

She leaned in closer, almost causing him to recoil again. That’s when he saw the pure excitement and wonder in her expression. “Did you find anything? About the Tower, I mean! I want to go there and see it, but I can never get close.”

For the first time, he noted that she was dressed in plain leather armor, much like he saw the Wood Wailers wear in Gridania. A bow was slung across her back, and next to that hung a tiny, misshapen hand-harp. Nothing a true bard would be seen carrying.

It told him everything he needed to know.

“You fancy old stories, then,” Amon motioned to the harp.

“Oh… this… well…” She seemed a little shy to admit. “The people of Eorzea seem to think archery and the bardic ways have an overlap. I’m a fairly good shot. Not so good at song or story. But I’m trying to learn.”

He could hear the unyielding passion in her voice. There was a rather refreshing naivety to it.

_That’s a lot to tell a stranger you just met in the middle of Mor-Dhona-nowhere._

“The world could use more Storytellers,” Amon admitted.

_That may be the only way our struggles are not forgotten._

“Are  _you_  a Storyteller?” She asked, words coming with more perception than he’d given her credit for.

“Sometimes.” Amon wasn’t sure how to answer that. “Maybe. Long ago.”

That was all that she needed to hear. She extended one small hand down to him, as if her tiny frame would be able to hoist his much taller form up.

“My name is Zuri,” she told him.

“Amon,” he introduced without flair. He wasn’t sure why, but he took her hand, though he made no motion of getting up.

“Why not come back with me to Revenant’s Toll? I have friends waiting for me there… they’re probably wondering if I was eaten by a nix,” Zuri’s eyes laughed at the prospect, though he’d consider that a pretty loathsome way to die.

_Though you were wishing that for yourself earlier._

He tried not to remind himself.

Instead, Amon attempted to excuse himself from the situation, “I appreciate your concern, but I–”

She quickly interrupted, as if she sensed something under his motives. “Do you have somewhere else to be?”

He opened his mouth, but didn’t have an answer.

_No… No I don’t._

Now that he’d established that there was nothing for him at the Tower, Amon really wasn’t sure where to go or what to do. He could always just stay there and mope in the desolate land that had once been his childhood home. Or he could…

His gaze flicked back to Zuri.

“You don’t, do you?” She pressed with an upraised eyebrow.

_She has eyebrows, too… tail, horns, scales and eyebrows..?_

He sighed and admitted, “No. I don’t.”

“Then…” Zuri’s mouth twitched with a smile as her little hand closed tighter on his. Then she pulled upwards, as if to lift him out of the pit he’d dug for himself.

_She doesn’t see it that way, of course. How could she?_

But, Amon could see it. For some reason unknown to himself, he got back on his feet. Standing like this, next to the much smaller creature, he felt like a tower himself.

This didn’t bother Zuri in the least. She just beamed up at him like someone who had just made a new friend.

_What did I just sign on for…?_

Amon tried not to let a preemptive sigh of exasperation sound. Instead, as they walked back to the outpost, he asked, “So… from what you say…  I gather that you’re not from Eorzea?”

“What? Me? An Au Ra? Of course not,” she laughed at him gently as they strode down the path. “Where  _have_  you been? Sleeping in the Crystal Tower?”

“Well…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amon D'Syrcus and friends are my in-game characters can be found on the Mateus RP server in FFXIV. You can also check out https://spotofmummery.tumblr.com to see more Allagan Nonsense, character memes, or interact with Amon if that pleases you!


	6. Not a Healer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Introducing a few more new characters this chapter! So here's the basic crew for now!

Amon’s concern continued to mount until they got to Revenant’s Toll, where it was fully confirmed and realized. Zuri appeared to be an idealistic youth, with a passion for bardic lore and a hopeful outlook. But that didn’t mean that the ones she called her “friends” shared the same sentiments.

The young Au Ra – Amon had learned all about her kind during their walk there – spread her hands as if to majestically announce two parties at once. Her smile was wide as she motioned first to Amon, then to the two strange individuals who watched their approach.

“Guys, this is Amon,” Zuri told them. “Amon, this is Ajir and Mocho.”

_Oh… Oh… I have been gravely mistaken._

Where Amon had originally thought Zuri was the most gruesome creature he ever saw – an opinion that was changing –  _this_ creature most certainly overtook that spot in his mind. He grit his teeth as he studied one of the individuals that she just called “guys.”

Another Au Ra – Amon assumed was Ajir – who was similar in some ways to Zuri… but much, much larger. Even taller than himself. He was all dark spikes and sharp points with wicked horns and slitted green eyes that did nothing to welcome a stranger. The downturned mouth was so opposite to Zuri’s disposition that Amon had to wonder how she could count such a dour beast as a friend.

Ajir didn’t speak. His angry eyes just sized Amon up. Then, he promptly turned to Zuri with a grumble. “You were supposed to recruit us a healer. Is he a healer?”

“Well, no…” Zuri responded, trying to sound optimistic. “But he’s a great Storyteller!”

“Another Bard?” The dark Au Ra snorted disdainfully through his nose. “If he’s not a healer, we don’t need him.”

 

“Aji!” She protested, looking put out. “You’re being rude.”

“I’m being realistic,” he argued. “Funds are running low, we haven’t had a solid job in weeks, and we’re not about to start getting one until we get a  _functioning_  party.”

_Hate to tell you, friend, this is **not** the way to get one of those._

Amon wasn’t particularly bothered by the creature’s tirade. After all, he could walk away any time he pleased.

Thankfully, the situation was salvaged by the other “friend.” A small fellow – they call them Lalafell now – who held himself with an air that spoke of experience and age beyond what his round little face could confirm. His manner was calm and deliberate, his words carefully measured.

“I apologize, Master Amon,” the one Zuri called Mocho told him. “You haven’t caught our group at the best of times.”

“I can see that,” Amon finally spoke, since Mocho seemed to have the social graces to speak to.

“We’ve been searching without luck for a healer.” Then he gave a sigh. “I’m afraid it may be my fault.”

“Don’t be silly, Mocho,” Zuri quickly interrupted him. “You’re doing fine.”

Amon noted that the Lalafell was garbed in the most cliché of adventuring outfits… like someone dressed as what they thought an adventurer was supposed to look like. A short blade hung at one hip and a small shield was strapped on his back. This tiny fellow was the protector of this team.

“A Weaver turned up-start Gladiator doesn’t inspire confidence, I’m afraid,” Mocho explained. “Especially at my age.”

“Everyone has to start somewhere,” Ajir’s gruff voice cut in, surprisingly supportive.

_So he’s not just all prickles and burrs…_

“Have you tried to find smaller jobs in the meantime?” Amon didn’t know why he bothered to offer a logical suggestion.

“We have,” Ajir growled, fingers tracing the shape of the sword hilt at his hip. Amon was unfamiliar with its make. “There’s no glory found in grunt work. How’s a proper Samurai to make a name for himself in this land?”

Zuri crossed her arms, “There’s also no glory found in starving to death.”

He snuffed at her but didn’t retort.

_It seems his friends can keep him in check, at least. That’s a promising thing._

“Well,” Amon said, taking a step away from them to test the waters. “I see that you are quite busy. I’ll not take up any more of your time. It was a pleasure to meet you.”

Zuri’s eyes widened in response. Then she, and surprisingly Mocho, both began to protest politely that he wasn’t a bother and he didn’t need to go anywhere.

“You haven’t told me any stories yet,” Zuri exclaimed. Without hesitation, she grabbed his arm in a familiar way, as if to keep him put. “You promised me a story!”

Amon let himself be kept put. For some reason, he heard himself laugh, “I never promised…”

But she looked so disappointed – and so eager – to hear a story from him that the showman within him couldn’t resist. It wasn’t every day that one had a rapt audience, after all.

_Even if it is just an audience of one._

“I admit, I could use a good tale, too,” Mocho agreed.

_Audience of two!_

Even _harder_  to turn down.

Ajir could see quite plainly that he was outvoted on the matter. He crossed his arms and grunted, “Shall we see what your land offers in the way of stories, then?”

_Three! Audience of three!_

And a  _tough_  audience at that.

Amon let out a long, pained sigh to accent the drama of the situation. “I suppose you’ve twisted my arm.”

He glanced down at where Zuri still, quite literally, was holding his arm. She beamed right back up at him, clearly relieved that he’d chosen to stay.

“Where is the nearest establishment?” he asked.

“You mean the tavern?” Mocho clarified. Then he motioned to a building that looked similar to all the others there, “That’d be the Seventh Heaven.”

“That’ll do,” Amon reclaimed his arm, while leaning down to murmur to Zuri. “Perhaps I can show your friends… another way… to earn their coin.”

She furrowed her brows at him for a moment, a puzzled expression that turned to surprise as she realized he’d just “borrowed” her rustic hand harp. Took it straight off her back.

_Yep. I still have it in me._

Then, with a fetching grin, Amon turned and led the way towards the waiting tavern.

It was only then that he became aware of it… the prickling feeling of eyes on his back. This wasn’t the kind of gaze of someone curiously looking – he knew that all too well. No, it was the heated sense of someone watching him with strong intention.

Only… when Amon turned to look over his shoulder, it all vanished. He saw nothing. No one out of the ordinary. Just the adventurers and scholars who typically roamed around the place.

_Hm._

“Cold feet, Mr. Storyteller?” Ajir taunted.

“No. Of course not.” Amon covered his momentary unease with a quick smile.

He could see the calculation in Ajir’s eyes, and knew the Samurai wasn’t fooled. The Samurai had noticed Amon look over his shoulder.

And the Samurai remained watching his every move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amon D'Syrcus and friends are my in-game characters can be found on the Mateus RP server in FFXIV. You can also check out https://spotofmummery.tumblr.com to see more Allagan Nonsense, character memes, or interact with Amon if that pleases you!


	7. Bard Song

There was already a Bard in Roost at the Seventh Heaven when Amon walked through the doors. This was a strange looking fellow with an admirable mask, who idly strummed a few chords from time to time on his harp in the corner. The instrument sounded good and the man was dressed like the real deal.

Amon didn’t know if things had changed during the time he’d been away, but where he came from, there was a code of honor among Bards. One did not infiltrated another’s Roost… without permission, at least.

So, he approached the other minstrel with the politest airs he had. “Good evening.”

The other nodded his acknowledgement.

“I came to provide some local entertainment,” Amon explained. “But I see this Roost is well-tended already. Would it be that I had permission to play in your establishment?”

The minstrel merely smiled, like someone who knew the secrets of the world, and stopped plucking his harp. No words were exchanged, but Amon took that to mean that permission was granted.

He bowed his head in a motion of thanks and scoped out the room. A few travelers were there, and what seemed like a few locals. Not a large crowd. But seeing Amon hadn’t performed in this new body yet, and he wasn’t certain how much muscle memory would get him through, it was probably a good thing.

_Must be confident… I did this for years. I can do this again._

Amon found an out-of-the-way spot next to the fireplace where he first took a moment to tune Zuri’s little harp. It was in bad need of alignment and some of the strings were far too loose. She really needed something better to learn with.

_Why… am I even concerning myself with that?_

Zuri (and the others) had followed Amon inside, and now sat around the table nearest to the fireplace. She watched him with a hopeful look, while Ajir just glowered and Mocho seemed to be drifting off to sleep.

The Bard steeled himself and played a few shaky notes.

_Come on hands. Work for me._

He tried to strum the start of a simple tune that he’d known since childhood, but the sounds came out all wrong. He paused, glared down at his uncooperative fingers and  _Hmmmed_  at himself.

Ajir gave a snide comment, leaning back. “A great Storyteller is he? One that can’t pluck a note.”

But Zuri hadn’t given up hope. She placed both hands on the table and spoke quietly, “You can do it Amon. Don’t be nervous!”

Did he look nervous? Was he nervous? When had he ever been nervous in front of a crowd?

Music. Performing was… what brought him joy… even in the darkest moments of his past life.

They never understood it. They thought he was strange and eccentric. They were right. He was.

_This is who I am._

With a flurry of memories, old emotions rushed through him. Amon’s hands began to play. Remembering the notes. Drawing out a song of his people, a music long lost to this strange new world.

The Allagans were best known for their technology, but they had just as much culture as any people. They had songs and stories and things to celebrate and dream of. They may have failed to capture the stars, but deep down, people are still people.

Amon wove the words of song into the little harp’s offerings. From the look on the faces that watched, he was right to think that they’d never heard this tune before. He knew many, many songs, and most of the songs held ancient stories. Though, he was very careful to choose only those that would not give away his origin.

By the time he segmented into a second song, other people in Seventh Heaven had begun to take notice. Amon didn’t know if the melody was as exotic to them as they were to him. He didn’t know if it stirred within them the same emotion… some universal truth that all people share in the vibration of light and sound.

But they did come. They did listen.

As the final notes of the song sounded through the room, Amon let out a long breath. It had been a while since he felt… truly  _felt_ … anything like that. But his reveling was short-lived.

The tavern keeper walked to the edge of the counter closest to Amon and remarked, “Sir Bard, I’ve had a lot of songs performed here, but n’aint none I’ve heard like that.” 

“Thank you.” He wasn’t sure how to reply to that, so he chose the humble route.

She looked at the counter, then at the small audience that had stopped to watch Amon’s performance. Finally, the tavern keep asked, “What would it take to get you to stay a bit longer and play a full set tonight?” 

This was exactly what Amon was hoping to hear.

“Well,” the Elezen tilted his head as if taking time to think it through. He already knew exactly what he was going to ask for. “I’d be willing to share a few more songs for supper and a room… for myself and my companions there.” 

The tavern keep followed the motion of Amon’s hand as the Bard indicated Zuri and her two friends, who were still seated at the nearby table. Now, it was the tavern keep’s turn to consider things. 

“Well, as long as your friends don’t treat this as an all-you-can-eat, you’ve got yourself a deal.” She reached a hand out to shake on it, requesting a name, “Mister….?” 

“Amon.” The Elezen offered and shook her hand in return. 

“A pleasure to do business with you, Mister Amon. You can call me Alys.” She nodded with a smile. “You just keep strumming those songs. I’ll have a supper out to yall soon enough.” 

Amon glanced over at the table to where Zuri beamed at him, absolutely delighted. Mocho was now fully awake, anticipating the meal. Even Ajir seemed fairly pleased by the turn of events. 

“Very well,” the Samurai muttered. “He can stay. For now.” 

The Bard smiled to himself and gave the Au Ra a mocking bow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amon D'Syrcus and friends are my in-game characters can be found on the Mateus RP server in FFXIV. You can also check out https://spotofmummery.tumblr.com to see more Allagan Nonsense, character memes, or interact with Amon if that pleases you!


	8. Intermission

The group stayed in the Seventh Heaven for a few more days. During the evening, Amon would play old Allagan tunes to delight the folks who passed through. He never filled the house or anything, but there was a curiosity for new songs from these people that made it worth his while (not to mention meals and board).

During the day, Ajir would head off to look at other job prospects, since they knew they couldn’t stay there indefinitely. The warlike Au Ra was getting antsy from being in one place too long, anyway. Mocho would look into recruiting a healer, an ongoing situation that never panned out. Sometimes he’d spend his time training.

Amon felt a little sorry for him. The Lalafell really did try so very hard.

And then, there was Zuri.

After Amon’s first performance, she approached him all starry-eyed, absolutely convinced he was some sort of master Bard. He didn’t have the heart to tell her the songs he played were basic Allagan folk melodies, sometimes nothing more than children’s songs and nursery rhymes.

His hands weren’t cooperative and coordinated enough to play his people’s more masterful works… not that he really knew them off the top of his head. He was a passing dabbler in the ways of music - enough to impress the unwashed masses, but hardly incredible to the trained and professional ear.

Still, Zuri’s inspiration was a bit catchy, so he found himself offering her advice where he could. How to better tune the rough harp she had. How to tighten the strings without breaking them. In fact, how to change the strings – they’d seen more than their fair share of travel grime and practice.

In return, the Au Ra gifted Amon with the songs of her people – a place called Yanxia. These were completely unknown to him, with tunes that almost seemed to come from a different world.

Her performance was rudimentary in his eyes, though her voice was pleasant enough – with some training it could improve. Yet, just the stark contrast of cultures was something to spark an interest within Amon. To make him wonder what else was out there.

By accident, he let that remark slip, and Zuri laughed, “I’ll take you there sometime. I think you’d like it.”

“Oh?” Amon tilted his head at her.

“I mean, compared to places like Ul'dah or Kugane, I suppose our mountains are fairly boring.” She mused. Then, she glanced back up at him. “But I think you’re someone who would appreciate my homeland.”

“And why’s that?”

Zuri squinted at him. “You see things in a way other people don’t. I think you’re from somewhere else far away, too… aren’t you?”

The words made Amon shiver. She was hitting so close to home, though he’d never told her anything about himself.

He tried to laugh it off. “You’ll make a good Bard yet, Zuri.”

“Huh? Why?” It was her turn to ask the questions.

“You’ve got a nose for story,” Amon grinned a little. “To get your story, sometimes you have to sense it, deep within you. And then follow it until you see it through.”

Zuri shot him a coy smile in return. Her tone turned teasing, “Oh, I plan to, Mister Storyteller.”

He threw up his hands playfully, exclaiming, “Not me! I’m not story material!”

“My  _nose_  tells me differently.” The Au Ra turned from him, plucking her harp idly.

That’s the moment Amon started to worry… just a little. Though, he had to admit, the worry was edged out a bit by flattery.

He wondered if his past life was one of old stories in this new world. He wondered what they said about him. Nothing good, for certain. His people, Xande in particular, were often looked upon with a mixture of wonder and disgust, it seemed.

_Not that I can blame anyone for thinking that way._

Sitting there, talking Bardic Things with Zuri, he wondered if there was a chance to write a new story. About himself.

She seemed to think so. And there was something about Zuri’s unwavering trust in him that made him… not want to disappoint her.  

_I’m getting too deep in this._

Before Amon could change his mind, Ajir strode into the room. His sharp green eyes took in the sight of the Elezen and the Au Ra, sitting closely together in a bond of music and story.

Those eyes slitted in warning, telling Amon without words… all the terrible things that Ajir planned to do to him should anything happen to Zuri. Subconsciously, Amon leaned away from the girl, straightening to frown at the Samurai.

“I believe I’ve found us a job,” Ajir told them, his tone slightly accusing, indicating that at least  _one_  of them had done something worthwhile that day.

“Really?” Zuri was oblivious in her excitement.

“One that didn’t mind having two bards.” The Samurai gave Amon that usual eat-choco-dung look.

That being said, Amon was surprised he was part of the job offer at all. He thought that once Zuri’s group had found their next gig,  they’d probably all part ways.

“Oh… well… I…”

“That’s  _wonderful_!” Zuri hopped off the stool and rushed up to Ajir. “Thank you!”

Just for that passing moment, the Samurai’s face softened. Then, Amon knew exactly why he was included in this job… For all of Ajir’s outward disgruntlement, the Samurai truly wanted Zuri to be happy.

Deep down, Amon had to respect that.

“I’ll go tell Mocho,” Zuri beamed. “When do we start?”

“Tomorrow,” Ajir told her. “But I’d like to brief us all tonight before we leave.”

“Great!” The girl rushed off, looking for their wayward companion.

Left alone, the two exchanged knowing glances. Neither of them said a thing. But, the Samurai was the first to turn away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amon D'Syrcus and friends are my in-game characters can be found on the Mateus RP server in FFXIV. You can also check out https://spotofmummery.tumblr.com to see more Allagan Nonsense, character memes, or interact with Amon if that pleases you!


	9. Odd Job

That night, as they sat around a table in the Seventh Heaven, Ajir detailed the job they were starting the next morning. The more they learned about it, the more Amon thought that it didn’t sound like fun. However, because Ajir went through so much to make sure to include him, for Zuri’s sake, Amon didn’t have it in him to back out.

“So let me get this straight,” Mocho clarified after Ajir was through. “We’re hired to protect a small, unknown shipment - a lone chocobo and driver - through Coerthas?”

“Yes,” the Au Ra nodded.

“To  _where_  in Coerthas?” The Lalafell was asking the important questions.

“Well, I’m not completely certain. I don’t know much about that area.” Ajir frowned a bit. Then he lifted a weathered piece of parchment and waved it for them to see, “However, the employer has furnished us with a map.”

“Does  _any_  of us know much about Coerthas?” Mocho countered, frowning, too.

Zuri looked down at the table, indicating her lack of knowledge.

Ajir glanced at Amon and demanded, “He should know, right?”

It was the Elezen’s turn to frown, “Excuse me?”

“You’re a Long-ears. Isn’t that where all your kind come from?”

“I’ve only set foot in Coerthas once that I’m aware of. That was coming here to Mor Dhona,” Amon retorted, which for all purposes, was as true as he could tell it. There’d never been a wasteland of snow so near to his homeland during his time. And it certainly wasn’t called “Coerthas” back under Allagan rule.

Ajir grimaced, “And here I thought you’d be good for something.”

Amon opened his mouth to respond with something he would have probably regretted, but thankfully, Mocho intervened.

“I’m not getting a good feeling about this one, Ajir,” the Lalafell told him, not beating around the bush.

“I know, but there’s not much to choose from without a full, functional party,” the Au Ra’s tone heaped more scorn upon their lack of a healer yet again. “Not to mention, the pay is good. Very good.”

“Yes, well, this may be a dangerous job,” Mocho noted. Then he put it in their hands. “Do we think we’re up to this?”

There was silence at the table.

Finally, Zuri spoke up, “I think we should try it. We could be just fine.”

Mocho gave her a soft look, “Your optimism is always welcome, Zuri. But ‘could be’ and 'will be’ are very different things.”

This made the girl press her lips together, and reword her approach, “We can do it.”

Amon leaned back in his chair and murmured, “I will go.”

Mocho looked at Ajir. The Samurai spread his hands, “I got us the job. I feel we’re fit for it.”

“Alright. If everyone agrees,” the Lalafell sighed a bit, dismissing himself from the table. “I’m going to catch some shut-eye. I assume we leave early in the morning.”

Amon watched him walk away, only speaking after he was long out of sight, “Is Mocho all right?”

“He’ll be fine,” Zuri answered. “He does this every time.”

“Oh?”

“He appears to have paternal instincts over our group,” Ajir stated.

Amon laughed at this, picturing such a little fellow being fatherly over everyone else. But, his laughter faded as Ajir’s expression indicated he was being very serious.

“Mocho worries he won’t be strong enough,” Zuri added. “We’re trying to help him get acclimated, but it’s a big shift for him to make.”

“It’s a big shift for anyone,” Amon agreed.

There wasn’t much conversation after that. They all said their good-nights and left to get rest for the next day.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amon D'Syrcus and friends are my in-game characters can be found on the Mateus RP server in FFXIV. You can also check out https://spotofmummery.tumblr.com to see more Allagan Nonsense, character memes, or interact with Amon if that pleases you!


	10. Ixali Attack

The first inkling that things might not be going as expected didn’t come until the group passed north through Dragonhead. Ajir frowned at the map, which indicated nothing but wilderness lay ahead.

“This isn’t adding up,” Mocho noted.

“Maybe we’re not delivering to a town,” Ajir suggested.

“Guys,” Zuri’s voice held a hint of warning. “Why did the cart stop?”

Amon jerked up to see that, yes indeed, the cart they were escorting was no longer moving. Leaving Ajir to frown at the map some more, he and Zuri walked forward to investigate. What they found was… unexpected… at best.

The Roegadyn driver had lost no time in unhitching the chocobo from the cart and mounting up. He gave them a rather frightened, wild-eyed glace as he rounded the bird. “Look, I don’t know who wants your head, but this was as far as I was paid to go. Sorry!”

Before either of them could find words, the driver-turned-rider was already clucking to his mount, heading back towards civilization as quickly as he could.

Amon’s eyes narrowed, and he knew.

_This was all a trap._

He thought back to all the times he felt he’d been watched while in Mor Dhona. He’d tried to shrug it off back then, despite what his instincts told him. Now it was coming back to bite him.

“Zuri, stay alert,” he told her.

The danger hadn’t fully registered on the girl yet. She stared at him, mouth slightly open, “What’s going on?”

A shout from the other side of the cart was her answer.

Amon rushed back, moving as fast as the snow would afford him. He saw Ajir drawing his blade while Mocho, also armed, stood ready for battle. A pack of bird-like beastmen – they now called themselves the Ixali – leapt down the snow-mounds towards them.

_Someone’s going to a lot of trouble to get this job done._

The Bard grit his teeth, loosening his bow and gathering his quiver. This was the first serious combat that his new body would experience. He could do nothing but hope it would respond the way he needed it to.

He knew Beastmen of any kind were nothing to trifle with in this world. Though having animalistic features, they were intelligent enough to form communities, language, and battle tactics. These rushed at them wielding spears, and one even seemed to have command of wind magics.

_It’s amazing how they’ve evolved so much left on their own like this…_

Though Amon wanted to muse more on the things he saw before him – creatures that originated back in Allagan history – that would do nothing to help the very real threat that bore down on them now.

Zuri gave a shout of dismay as Mocho took the forefront. It was a move of pure desperation, the Lalafell throwing himself in front of the enemy to defend the others. Zuri saw what the rest of them did – Mocho was far outclassed in this battle. His actions, thought admirable, did nothing to even slow the avalanche down.

The head of the Ixali pack swung down into the Gladiator’s defenses, the spear piercing right through the small shield, ripping it out of Mocho’s hand. Ajir rushed forward to intercept, but wasn’t near enough to prevent the second blow, which sent the Lalafell spinning backwards into a snowbank.

Where he landed, white began to bleed red.

Zuri ran for Mocho.

Ajir roared – literally roared – his blade sparking off the lead Ixali’s spear-haft, the sound of ringing metal a warning to their attackers. The Samurai’s pure bulk and fury knocked the beast backwards, almost beast-like himself, causing the other Ixali a moment of concerned hesitation.

_You didn’t expect a fight, did you?_

Zuri finally reached Mocho, choking sobs as she pulled his body out of the snow.

From the corner of Amon’s eye, he saw the Ixali mage turn full focus on where the girl cradled the Lalafell. The beast began to summon the winds, aether-magic rising to his call, casting the snow around him in wicked winter gales.

Zuri’s attention was fully on Mocho. She didn’t see the danger.

Amon felt his arms move of their own accord. Arrow knocked. Bow drawn. Aim fully on the casting Ixali in the distance.

He let the arrow fly.

It sang through the air, a thing of beauty and death.

Striking true, the point plunged into the Ixali’s throat. The call of magic stopped as the beast staggered, screeching out a bubbling, inhuman cry. Then it fell, also leaving a red stain growing over the white ground.

Amon looked at his own hands in surprise. But there was no time to celebrate… striking down one of the pack had only served to enrage the rest of them. If there was any hesitation to their charge before, there wasn’t now.

With the caster out of the way, Ajir began to cleave through the others, his blade shattering their rude weapons and slamming them back time and again. The Samurai needed no defense – he was a war machine all by himself.

“GET THEM OUT OF HERE!” The Au Ra flicked his fierce gaze on Amon.

For a moment, the Bard thought to argue. But seeing what a poor state Mocho was in – he was losing a lot of blood fast – and the shock this caused Zuri, Amon knew getting them back to safety was the only course he could take.

Besides, Ajir didn’t appear to need much in the way of help. If anything, his silent rage reveled in this battle and the fall of his enemy.

“We have to go,” Amon told Zuri in a low voice, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“We can’t… we…” She was inconsolable, the shimmer of near-frozen tears on her cheeks.

The Elezen just gathered up Mocho in his arms, ignoring the crimson that began to stain his own coat. His tone was urgent. “Mocho needs you to help me help him.”

She couldn’t really argue against that.

As the sound of battle and beast-death rang over the snowy hill behind them, Amon and Zuri fled, carrying their unmoving companion back to the halls of Dragonhead.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amon D'Syrcus and friends are my in-game characters can be found on the Mateus RP server in FFXIV. You can also check out https://spotofmummery.tumblr.com to see more Allagan Nonsense, character memes, or interact with Amon if that pleases you!


	11. Employer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, time has come to introduce yet another new character into the mix! Here's where things start to get fun. :)

By the time Ajir made his way back to Dragonhead, Mocho was already safely in the hands of the best healers the outpost could offer. That’s one thing the Samurai learned about the Eorzeans, even the strange, somewhat stuck-up Long-ears. Years of battle and hardship had shaped a people who were mostly open to helping others.

_That foolish… foolish Lalafell!_

The Au Ra only suffered a few minor wounds himself. It was nothing compared to the damage that Mocho took, having so recklessly charged into the way of harm.

_If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was trying to get himself killed._

Mocho was tucked under a pile of heavy blankets when Ajir walked into the healing quarters. The others – Amon and Zuri – were also cared for with heavy blankets and warming drinks.

Zuri was the first to act, springing up, “Aji! We were so worried! Are you okay?”

Amon didn’t speak. The Samurai heavily doubted the Long-ears held the same sentiments of concern.

“Tired. Cold,” he admitted. “But victorious.”

The girl was already putting a blanket around his shoulders. “You need to have those cuts checked.”

“What of Mocho?” Ajir asked, moving her attention off his wellbeing.

“He took a serious blow,” Amon finally spoke. “But the healers seem to believe he’ll recover with some rest.”

As concerned as the Samurai was for his friend’s health, he knew what they all knew. There was not enough gil to pay for these services… or even basic rooming and food for any short amount of rest time.

_This is why we needed a healer and not another blasted Bard._

Ajir couldn’t help narrow his eyes at Amon with the thought.

“Sir,” One of the healers approached him.

“If this is about payment…”

“No, sir,” She tilted her head upward, but it was mostly concealed by a hood. “I wish to talk with you privately… about the state of the patient.”

Ajir pursed his lips. Surely the healer had noted his leadership position in the group, and came to inform him of any complications that Mocho might experience.

He tried not to show his worry as he nodded. “Yes, of course.”

The Samurai followed the healer out of the healing quarters. Then out of the main room. Then… outside? And to a small recess, which was darkening as the evening fell over the snow-lands.

For the first time, Ajir began to feel unease. “What’s the meaning of all this? Certainly, news of health couldn’t need for this sort of confidentiality.”

“You’re a bright one, aren’t you?” The healer gave a soft chuckle, then drew back her hood.

She was of one of the cat-clans, with long dark hair and bright yellow eyes. Something about the intensity of her gaze made him feel as if she could see all the secrets of his spirit. Though her garb was rather plain, she held the air of someone incredibly important.

He felt his teeth clench. “Who are you?”

“Your employer.” She didn’t explain further. Instead, she just extended a pouch, heavy with coin.

Many conflicting emotions ran through him all at once. This gil could be what they needed to see Mocho recovered. But at the same time… if this truly was the one who hired them to escort the cart into what they now knew was a trap…

_What’s her game? Why is she doing this?_

Ajir didn’t make a move to take it. “Do you think I’ll be bought off?”

“Certainly not, Mr. Samurai,” she gave a light laugh. “This is payment for a completed job.”

“For leading my company into danger?” He felt the heat in his scales rise. It was all that he could do not to lose his temper right there. “You would have seen them killed!”

“That’s  _not_ what I hired the beastmen to do.” She told him flippantly. “They were simply to capture one of your party. But I suppose when one of you killed one of them, all bets were off. Do you blame them?”

“Capture? Capture who?” He pressed for more information.

“Now, that’s not something I can confide… unless I know that you’re on board.”

Ajir was tired of this game of cat and mouse. “Speak plainly.”

She tilted her head thoughtfully. “You are a man who would do anything to protect your friends, are you not?”

“That is my creed.”

Her eyes flicked up to him knowingly. “What if one of your  _friends_ … is something more than they appear. Something that poses this world great danger… should they find a way to regain… things… they lost long ago.”

There was only one “friend” she could be talking about. The name touched his lips, “Amon?”

She smiled in confirmation. It was the expression one would use when praising a pet that had performed well.

“I knew he was trouble,” Ajir grumbled under his breath.

_Yet… should I take the word of this stranger at face value? She who would put us all in danger to capture a single other? Amon **did** protect Zuri and carry Mocho to safety._

Still, when she placed the gil pouch in his hand, this time, the Samurai took it.

“My name is Koh Rabntah,” she told him. “I am a Scholar of the Sons of Saint Coinach. We are the foremost historians and researchers overseeing the unearthing of the Allagan knowledge and artifacts in Mor Dhona. Perhaps you’ve heard of us?”

Ajir wrinkled his brow.

_I wish I’d paid more mind to the on goings in that place. There was just so much to take in._

“Or not. It’s of no consequence,” Koh shrugged.

“Your… organization… seeks to capture Amon,” the Samurai pieced it all together smoothly.

“We do.”

“Why?”

“Again, information I’m not free to share.”

Ajir leaned back, not liking the parts of this he didn’t know. “I might be more obliging should you be a little more free.”

Koh laughed at that. “Is that how it is?”

He just grunted, standing his ground with crossed arms.

“Well, should I enlighten you to your companion’s past identity, you may come to agree with our assessment of him.” She tapped the end of a long, slender pipe against the heel of her boot. “I’ll just say that the Sons of Saint Coinach will pay extremely well for assistance in fully capturing Amon and returning him to Mor Dhona.”

Still conflicted, but also concerned, Ajir bowed his head. Then, he took the plunge. “I’m listening.”

That’s when Koh’s smile turned a little predatory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amon D'Syrcus and friends are my in-game characters can be found on the Mateus RP server in FFXIV. You can also check out https://spotofmummery.tumblr.com to see more Allagan Nonsense, character memes, or interact with Amon if that pleases you!


	12. Capture

Ajir brought back a solid meal that night, something that surprised Amon. They’d been pinching gil ever since leaving Mor Dhona, so to see it spent so freely, especially with the cost of services rendered to Mocho, left him curious.

The Samurai didn’t speak much. Not when the healers came to tend his wounds. Not even when Zuri went on to recount Ajir’s battle with the Ixali in her juvenile-Bard ways.

_I admit, the guy is a war machine. Even I’m a little impressed._

Amon remained silent, too, but his thoughts were picking apart the happenings of the day. Trying to make sense of it. There was still a lot they didn’t know. Like who set them up. And who had enough influence with the beastmen to stage an attack like that.

_Someone is after me… I’m sure of that much._

The fire began to crackle low. Both Mocho and Zuri had fallen asleep. It was then that Ajir approached Amon.

“I may have some information about the person who hired us for that job.”

This perked up the Elezen’s ears. “Oh? Do tell.”

The Samurai leaned back in his chair, silent for a long while. Amon began to wonder if he’d say anything at all. Finally, Ajir stood up instead.

“It’s something I’ll have to show you. I saw it on the way back in to Dragonhead.”

Amon glanced down at himself – he was wearing a loaner shirt the healers gave him when they took his coat in for the wash. He was certainly not in any state to go out into the cold, not with night getting on.

Ajir saw this and added, “It’ll only take a moment.”

The Bard nodded and shoved his feet into his boots. “All right. But if I get snow-bit, I’m blaming you.”

“Fair enough.”

***

The two walked out of Dragonhead, to the north, back in the direction that the attack happened. Amon felt the cold biting into him, and regretted the choice immediately.

“Thought this would only take a moment,” he chided impatiently.

Ajir didn’t say anything. He just kept walking.

“Going to freeze to death,” Amon added with a slight flair of dramatics.

That’s when the Samurai stopped and promptly turned, drawing his blade. “Perhaps that would be the better option…  _Amon_.”

The Elezen took a step back in surprise. Ajir had never spoken his name like that… full of so much distaste and loathing. A chill rushed through his body. It wasn’t from the cold.

The blade in the Samurai’s hands began to pulse with a flow of blue light. The Au Ra’s green eyes seemed to glow, fixed on his target.

“Ajir… what are you doing?” Amon backed further away, the snow crunching under his boots.

The Samurai growled, “She said you were a good actor. Has that been all this was to you?”

_What? How…_

Amon’s face paled. He heard himself breathe the words, “ _Who_  told you?”

Ajir didn’t answer. He simply gripped his blade more tightly and lunged forward, bringing his beastly strength and snarling ferocity down on his unarmed, once-companion.

At an extreme physical disadvantage, Amon felt a jolt of pain as he took the immense blow along the side of his skull. The blunt grip of the katana sent him reeling, and just like the stories always said, he saw stars. A stream of warm blood gushed down his cheek – no doubt Ajir had done some damage, even if he didn’t strike a killing blow.

Then, the Au Ra’s strong fist closed down on Amon’s collar, dragging him up as the Elezen’s knees threatened to buckle under him.

That’s when Amon felt it.

A tickling in the back of his mind.

The rushing sensation of aether energy.

Tiny – just a fraction. Just a  _sliver_  of the power he once held.

But in his moment of desperation, it was all he had.

Amon’s mind clamped down on that power.

He drew it in. He hungered for it. A sensation he knew all too well.  

All thoughts focused on survival.  _His_  survival.

As Amon’s free hand lifted, the power rushed out of him, a fountain of flame that blasted the Samurai point-blank in the face.

It wasn’t a massive flame. It probably did nothing more than singe the Au Ra’s stubborn hide. But it was enough to make Ajir leap back with a shout of surprise and release the Elezen.  

“You…” Ajir stammered, his eyes round, staring with a hint of fear. “You… really are…”

Amon was still too disoriented to make any attempt of escape. Instead, the Bard gathered himself up and did what he always did in a bind. He acted.

“Yes, I am,” Amon’s voice grew powerful as he tried to make himself look larger than he actually was. Given that blood was still dripping down his chin and he couldn’t see straight, that was quite an effort. “And you’ve just made a very grave mistake.”

That’s when a snide voice joined the scene. “Give it a rest, Amon.”

A slip of a cat-girl appeared, no sign of fear, just all dark hair and sharp eyes. Though she looked common enough, Amon could sense that there was something not quite right about her.

“Who… are you…?” The Elezen tried not to slur. Staying awake was getting hard.

“I represent the Sons of Saint Coinach,” she told him in a steady voice. “And with the power vested in me, I take you, Amon of Allag, into custody.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amon D'Syrcus and friends are my in-game characters can be found on the Mateus RP server in FFXIV. You can also check out https://spotofmummery.tumblr.com to see more Allagan Nonsense, character memes, or interact with Amon if that pleases you!


	13. Two Faces

Amon wasn’t sure how long they’d kept him under. He just knew when he woke that he was no longer in the cold lands of Coerthas. The stone walls here were so non-descript that he couldn’t pin-point anything else about his location.

They’d taken no chances. His hands were locked behind his back with cuffs that he could probably escape from if given enough time. All charlatans could slip handcuffs, after all. It was part of his job description.

Though his head still throbbed from time to time if he turned it too quickly, they’d tended his wound and even left him in the loaner shirt he got from Dragonhead. The only thing that was missing was his mask-hat.

The fact that his face was uncovered for everyone to see made him quite anxious. 

“Are you finally awake?”

He recognized the cat-girl’s voice based on the vitriol level alone. She strode into the room with an air of self-control and shimmer of ancient knowledge deep within yellow eyes.

“Where’s my hat?” Amon croaked. He needed water something fierce.

Proving she wasn’t there to torture him, the girl brought a cup of water to his lips and let him drink.

“I wanted to see your face,” she told him. “Amon of Allag…. You are much younger than the stories had me expect.”

Amon blanched at her, then tried to play it off. “One advantage of creating your own cloned body is that you get to choose its appearance.”

She furrowed her brow. “Is that what you did? Transferred yourself into a clone. Like you did Xande.”

This girl knew way too much for his comfort. He continued to work on wiggling out of the cuffs that bound him.

“That’s a shame.” She leaned back. “I’d hoped you were this cute when you were alive.”

He coughed. “The design  _is_  based on my younger self.”

She just laughed, touching his cheek lightly. “Still as prideful as ever.”

“I wouldn’t want to disappoint,” Amon tilted his head with a rueful grin. This was to cover the fact that he was now half-yanking on his hand to try to free it. “Can I have my hat back?”

“No,” she teased.

“Then, at least, can I have your name?”

The girl pursed her lips, seeming to enjoy the fact that she knew something he didn’t.

“It’s only fair. You know mine.” He pointed out.

She gave a long, exaggerated sigh, and propped herself against his chair. “The Allagans once called me Noah. You may have heard of me.”

Amon’s eyes widened a bit. “Noah.”

The girl smiled, now enjoying his discomfort.

“You mean the Archmagus Noah?”

She looked dismissively at her fingernails.

“The one who built the Crystal Tower and tutored the royal family?”

“Before you made a million clone-slaves of my students, yes,” Noah’s expression turned dark quickly.

He winced. “I… I needed them for my research to…”

“Bring Xande back. Yes, I’ve heard the story.”

Amon began to yank harder on the cuff. He could feel his hand starting to squeeze through, though painfully. “I did what I did to save our people. You weren’t there… you didn’t see…”

“No, I wasn’t,” Noah snapped, no longer fun and games. “You can justify it anyway you want to yourself. But the bottom line is… You were a monster who used your knowledge and position to experiment on living creatures to achieve what  _you_  thought was best for everyone else.”

“It could have worked!” He felt anger rushing through him. He didn’t get angry often… or easily… but she had no right to talk about something she knew nothing of.  

“It  _didn’t_  work!” Her eyes flashed. “Your actions brought Xande back, and he almost sold our world to the Void! What you did  _led_ to the fall of Allag!”

With a furious twist, Amon wrenched his hand free of the cuff. There must have been murder written on his face because as soon as Noah saw him free, she froze, all traces of her fearless attitude vanishing.

“Maybe you’re right… maybe I  _am_  a monster. If so, where does that leave you now?” He loomed huge above her, a fevered light of fury in his golden eyes.

A moment of blankness shifted through her expression. Then, as she stared up at him, becoming more and more terrified, the cat-girl burst out in a torrent of blubbering tears.

Part of him wanted to vent his anger, but there was something new… something different within him… that stayed his hand. Instead, he snarled, “What? Can’t take your own medicine?”

“Don’t kill me! P-please!” She wailed and hiccupped at the same time. Huge fearful tears dripped down her face pathetically. “That wasn’t me talking! I can explain! Give me a ch-chance!”

Amon stood there, not really sure where this was going.

“I… I know… I know who you are. What… you were…” The girl choked.

If Noah was playing the innocent little girl act, it was very convincing. But also very much out of character from what he knew of her. He pursed his lips and leaned back, crossing his arms and watching.

“Noah… she showed me.”

That’s when Amon tilted his head in slight confusion. “You  _are_ Noah.”

“No…! I’m not! I mean…”

He sighed, seeing that he would get nowhere with her in hysterics. Finding a kerchief, he offered it to her. “Calm down. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Promise?” Her teeth chattered as she clung to the kerchief like a lifeline.

“That’s for your nose,” Amon advised.

Finally, she took a deep breath and tended to her face. Once that was done, she was only marginally better than before.

“Tell me what’s going on,” he sat down, bringing himself to her level to put her at ease.

She scrunched up her face and took a deep breath. “My name is Koh. Koh Rabntah. I’m… I’m… a researcher for the Sons of Saint Coinach. We… We…” She stopped and stared at him again as if realizing. “Oh my gods, you’re an Allagan!”

Amon sighed, trying to route her back to her story, “You’re a researcher who…”

“We study artifacts… collect history… we’re trying to research and document the Allagans.”

“I see.”

“When Syrcus Tower first opened,” Koh began to wring her hands. “I went in to excavate and bring back anything of interest. I found this orb… and…”

He watched her. She was having trouble describing this part.

“I didn’t know that Noah’s spirit was locked in the orb. I took it with me… and… that woke her… and…”

Amon’s face blanched, having a sinking feeling of where this was going.

“She takes control of me… when she wants something,” Koh’s voice became smaller and smaller. “It doesn’t hurt… it’s like I’m sleeping. But she does things… sometimes crazy or embarrassing things… and I find out about it later when people tell me what they heard me say or saw me do.”

“Does anyone know?” He heard himself ask.

She looked up at him with soulful eyes. “How can I tell my friends and family something like this?”

_And Noah has the gall to call **me**  a monster._

That’s when something dawned on him. “So she’s trapped with you, and you with her. Do you think that’s part of the reason why she wanted to capture me?”

“I really don’t know what she had in mind, Master Amon. She doesn’t tell me anything I don’t need to know,” Koh shook her head.

This was obviously already too much for the girl to take in, so he decided not to expand on the details. Amon had his suspicions, though.

“So you’ve caught me. What are you going to do with me now?” he asked.

The girl choked, “I… we… can’t stop you… From doing whatever you’re going to do…”

“And what do you think that is?”

“I don’t know,” Koh lowered her head, letting her hair fall in her face. Then she turned to him. “Everything we know about you… your people… it’s so far beyond anything we could ever understand. Noah seems to feel like you’re a danger to Eorzea.”

“I suppose that’s a fair concern.”

“Are you?” Again with the big, soft eyes staring into his soul.

_She’s worse than Zuri._

“I don’t know,” he admitted. It was the first time he’d been able to talk about his situation with anyone. “Things are rather messed up for me right now, too.”

Koh suddenly grabbed a notebook and began to scribble in it furiously. The instincts of a Scholar kicked in. “Can you tell me how you got here?”

Amon pursed his lips, somewhat amused. “I’ll trade you.”

She lowered her pen and blinked at him. “For what?”

“Can I have my hat back?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amon D'Syrcus and friends are my in-game characters can be found on the Mateus RP server in FFXIV. You can also check out https://spotofmummery.tumblr.com to see more Allagan Nonsense, character memes, or interact with Amon if that pleases you!


	14. Allagan Minds Think Alike (Sometimes)

The next morning greeted Amon in the same room, but with a plate of food waiting on the table for him. The rich scents woke him from his slumber, something tugging at a hazy memory from the past. When he came to inspect the meal, he understood why.

_This is an Allagan breakfast dish._

Something he remembered his mother making long ago… something he thought he’d never eat again in a world that had forgotten all that once was. Of course, the food was modified slightly to use the ingredients on hand, but that didn’t make it any less nostalgic for him.

He was halfway done when the door opened at the far end of the room, admitting the dark-haired cat-girl. Koh or Noah? He’d find out soon enough.

She observed him eating, and sat down to wait, calmly. Biding her time.

_Noah._

“This is good,” Amon complemented the food. He may be frustrated with Noah, but he still had his charm.

“I’m glad.” She nodded. Then she said slowly, “Consider it an apology.”

_That… is unexpected._

“Oh?” He chewed, watching her from over his fork.

Noah was quiet for a moment before she pushed aside enough pride to continue. “The things I said last night… were purposely intended to make you angry.”

“A test,” Amon noted. “I assume I passed, or I’d not be treated to such fine cuisine.”

“Maybe.”

“You’d risk hurting Koh to test a personality theory?”

“You’ve done worse,” Noah crossed her arms with a slight sneer.

“Touché.”

“Besides, it wasn’t completely unknown.” She looped a lock of dark hair around one finger. “I’ve watched you. I’ve seen how you’ve interacted with your companions. How you’ve performed for people in the tavern. I had a pretty strong hunch you wouldn’t be able to bring yourself to hurt a frightened child.”

“And what about you?” Amon pointed the fork her way. “What about what you’re doing to her life?”

“I wish it wasn’t this way.” Noah’s expression was one of true regret, so much that he wanted to take his words back.

“Hmm…” He added nothing to the conversation, not wanting to shove his foot further in his mouth.

“At first, I thought of nothing more than what it would take to be free. To walk this world again.”

Her eyes lit up for a moment, fixing Amon. Knowing that he understood. That he, too, had done what he did to simply survive.

When he didn’t respond, Noah continued. “But now that I’m here, I realize that I’ve resigned myself to a different kind of captivity. One of my own making.”

“And you’ve taken Koh with you.”

“Yes.” Shame filled her eyes. She was genuinely compassionate towards this girl.

Amon finished eating his breakfast, saying nothing else until he was done. He left Noah to her own thoughts. It seemed like there was more she wanted to say, but emotion was keeping her words from coming.

Seeing she was sensitive at the moment, and being in a slightly petty mood after his treatment last night, Amon snarked, “So, is that why you paid one of my party to knock me cold?”

Her head jerked up, looking even more ashamed. “To the Samurai’s credit, he’s quite torn on the situation.”

“You told him who I am.”

“He was being all honorable and stuff. It was the only way to get him to work with me,” Noah shrugged.

“You told him I was dangerous.”

“Aren’t you?”

He snuffed down at his hands and lifted them for her to see. “This… is an uncoordinated mess of a cloned body that’s been locked in stasis for… how many Eras? If I could own the world, don’t you think I would have already done it by now?” 

She shook her head. “You are not Xande.”

Amon frowned deeply.

“You may have done some cruel and crazy things in the name of ‘saving’ the Allagans… but you sought out a leader. You didn’t take the control for yourself,” Noah observed. “Even though, by all means, you could have.”

He crossed his arms and looked up at the ceiling, changing his approach. “If you captured me thinking I can fix your situation, you’re wrong.”

She fell silent at that.

“My research… my lab… my power… everything… is locked in Syrcus Tower. I tried to get in. Trust me. It didn’t work.” Amon grumbled and glanced at her. “Because  _someone_  made it so only the royal bloodlines could unseal that front gate.”

Noah flashed him a cheerful grin. She thought it was funny.

“Go ahead and laugh.”

“I am,” she chuckled.

Amon looked at his hands again, speaking uncharacteristically somber. “It’s not like I’ve got it in me to do what I used to do. Whatever I had back then… I’ve lost it. I’ve lost my nerve.”

Noah’s face softened. “Or maybe, the experience of death… has cleared your mind and taught you the value of life.”

“Sentimental nonsense,” he rejected, balling his fists. “What good is a scientist who doesn’t have the gumption to take a few losses?”

“I’d say, a lot of good, actually.” The cat-girl reached across the table and put her hands on his. Her touch was warm, and it caused his fists to unclench. “You don’t have to  _hurt_  the world to find a way to  _save_  it.”

“Who says I want to save the world?” Amon muttered.

“Now you’re just being childish.”

To prove her point, he huffed and rolled his eyes under the mask.

“The Amon of legends was  _always_  about saving the world. He just didn’t always go about it the right way,” Noah teased him gently. Then her tone turned more serious. “I wonder what you… and I… could have done if we had been dealt a different hand.”

“What do you mean?”

“Our civilization was already marred beyond our control.” She said sadly. “What we became was partially a product of our twisted time. My magic… Your mind… If we’d been born to a different Era, we may have been heroes instead of footnotes.”

Amon withdrew his hands, gently rejecting this. “We are what we are. We did what we did. There’s no changing that.”

“You think not?” Noah’s eyebrows lifted. “As long as we’re still here, there’s  _always_  an opportunity to change things.”

He couldn’t argue the logic, but everything in him denied her emotional spew.

Still, she had planted a seed, and she knew it. With a content look, she got to her feet and patted his cheek. “Think about it.”

Unfortunately, as Noah closed the door behind her, Amon knew he would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amon D'Syrcus and friends are my in-game characters can be found on the Mateus RP server in FFXIV. You can also check out https://spotofmummery.tumblr.com to see more Allagan Nonsense, character memes, or interact with Amon if that pleases you!


	15. Full Circle

When Koh came to let Amon out of the room later that afternoon, he instantly saw she had taken him back to Mor Dhona. That made sense… Koh’s research group was located there, after all.

_At least she’s decided I’m not worth keeping locked away._

Then, as he stretched to shake out the kinks in his system, he glanced up to see none other than Ajir sitting on the other side of the main room. Amon felt his body tense at the sight of the Samurai.

The dark Au Ra got to his feet at that very same moment, his face mirroring the awkwardness. His hand slid his blade out of its sheath slightly, making an audible  _click_. He growled at Koh, “You didn’t tell me you were releasing him.”

Koh being Koh, and not Noah at the moment, looked down, not sure how to respond. “I’ve… tested him. I’ve found him to be non-threatening… at this point.”

“That’s  _not_  what you told me before,” Ajir glowered down at her.

“It  _is_  what I told you before.” She swallowed down her fear and tried to face him. “I said that should he  _regain_  his strength, he  _could_  be a danger. I’ve accessed the situation and have determined that’s not the case… for now.”

The Samurai’s eyes flicked between Koh and Amon, then back to Koh. He removed his hand from his sword hilt. “You do know he speaks with sweet words and has a charming smile.”

“Yes, I know. I’ve studied his biography for years,” the cat-girl indicated a bunch of dusty tomes on a side table.

“Oh really?” Amon interjected, sounding more flattered than he probably should have.

Ajir didn’t look so certain, “Well… if you are content that he’s not a threat…”

“Why are  _you_  still here?” Amon demanded of the Samurai, letting irritation seep into his voice.

Ajir stepped back, looking ready to fight, if needed. It felt good to see the big Au Ra squirm, if only just a little.

_I don’t know what Noah told him about me, but she’s put the flames of fear under his tail._

“I couldn’t leave until I knew… what they chose to do with you,” Ajir spoke slowly.

“That sounds suspiciously like concern.”

The Samurai pursed his lips. “I did what I thought was right, given what I knew.”

“Yes, I’m aware of that,” Amon glanced at Koh who gave a little gasp and flailed her hands. “I think we’ve got things cleared up.”

The cat-girl nodded.

“So… are you… who she says you are?” Ajir approached the question with hesitation.

“I am,” Amon nodded.

“Why… are you here?”

“Why am I alive?” The Bard asked with a little laugh. “Because I’d prefer that over being dead.”

Ajir frowned. “You know what I’m asking.”

Amon tilted his head. “My answer stands. I’m trying to make it by just like anyone else.”

“Even though you…” The Samurai didn’t seem to know the exact question he wanted to ask, but this was enough to sense where it was going.

“My home… my people… my life… they’re all gone, Ajir. Nothing I did saved it. Nothing I can do will bring it back.”

The Au Ra didn’t ask any other questions. He was silent for a long time, letting the answers sink in.

Finally, Amon broke the silence, “I assume you’ve told Zuri and Mocho.”

“No.”

The answer took him by surprise. “No?”

Ajir shook his head. “I left them a note that said I’d gone hunting information on who had set the trap for us. I gave them gil… and told Zuri to keep watch over Mocho while he recovered. I told them nothing else.”

Amon wasn’t sure why, but he felt grateful for this. “Thank you.”

The Samurai retorted hotly, “It wasn’t to protect  _you_. This was all for  _them_.”

“Of course,” the Elezen looked down.

“They don’t need to be caught up in this Allagan scheming mess,” Ajir grunted and crossed his arms, sounding more like himself.

“No, they don’t. I agree.”

“That sounds suspiciously like concern,” Ajir noted, using one of Amon’s own lines against him.

“Inconceivable,” the Bard retorted. But it sounded fake and watery, even to his ears.

Silence returned, pressing in on them. This was it. The turning point. The moment where someone had to make a choice what was going to happen to them all.

_Zuri and Mocho don’t know the truth yet._

That eased his mind somewhat. Especially about Zuri. That meant that all wasn’t lost there… He stopped himself. Was he honestly concerned about his relationships with these people?

_They’re all better off if we part ways._

But if they did, where would he go?

Would Mocho recover? Would Zuri be sad? Would Noah and Koh never be free? Would Ajir continue to be a huge stick in the mud?

So many stories, none with endings. Could he really leave before seeing them through?

Amon took a deep breath through his nose, and decided to make the call.

“By the way,” the Bard announced in his most jovial voice, “I’ve recruited us a healer.”

When he motioned to Koh, both the cat-girl and the Au Ra exclaimed in unison, “WHAT?”

“You’re a Scholar, right?” Amon asked Koh. Then he indicated Ajir, “He’s been trying to recruit a healer for our party for a long time. I think his face scares them away.”

“I can’t just…” she began to object.

Amon interrupted, making grandiose motions to his chest. “Living. Breathing. Allagan. Here.”

Her mouth opened soundlessly.

“Can you just let this opportunity to study and document the revival of Amon of Allag walk out the door without you?” The Bard leaned down to her with a grin. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”

By this time, Koh was making all kinds of half-cat-squee sounds under her breath. Her eyes flicked around at all the books and notes and studies… a place that must have been her home… and her little body shook all over with fear and excitement of the unknown.

Finally, just when Amon thought she might burst, Koh exclaimed. “Hold on! Let me get my stuff!”

Then, she rushed to the back room, leaving Amon to grin coolly at Ajir.

“That was mean,” the Samurai told him.

“No…” the Bard said smugly. “That was compassion in action.”

Ajir groaned at the poorly rhymed statement. “Why are you here, again?”

Amon grinned all the more, forgetting himself, and clapping a hand down on the Au Ra’s shoulder in a friendly manner. Much to his surprise, Ajir allowed it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amon D'Syrcus and friends are my in-game characters can be found on the Mateus RP server in FFXIV. You can also check out https://spotofmummery.tumblr.com to see more Allagan Nonsense, character memes, or interact with Amon if that pleases you!


	16. Return

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the final segment of the "Coming Together" story arc! There's plenty more writing to come in this series, but this part is coming to an end. Thanks so much for reading!

They returned to Dragonhead with more style than they’d arrived the last time. While Koh’s organization didn’t have an infinite fount of gil to share, there was enough to rent a proper carriage to shelter them from the bitter cold on their way back north.

Between the three of them, they didn’t speak much. Koh was lost to her own thoughts, scribbling in one of her books. Ajir watched the landscape slip by the window, probably caught up in some internal Samurai-code conflict.

Amon just took the opportunity to rest. It was the first time in a long time that his life had so little direction. Yet, that came with its own newfound sense of freedom.

The world had changed so much from the one that he once knew. But, perhaps, Noah was right. Maybe this new Era afforded him a chance at a different path. Different choices.

He no longer had to be the mad Allagan technologist who sacrificed anything and everything to salvage a situation that had been spiraling out of everyone’s control even before he was born. Xande was gone for good, defeated by the Warriors of Light, and the Tower slumbered again.

Life went on, even after Allag was no more.

_How does a person move on, too, when the past offers nothing but pain?_

That was a question Amon knew he’d have to answer for himself.

When they finally arrived at the healing quarters in Dragonhead, they were met with a tsunami of pure joy. Zuri had been waiting faithfully for them to return – Amon could imagine her staring out the window like an anxious puppy while they were gone.

Now that they had, she met Ajir with some sort of emotional Au Ra greeting. Then, she rushed to Amon and threw her arms around him in a hug.

He froze.

“Where have you two  _been_?” Zuri demanded as she stared up at him.

“It’s a long story,” Amon said, gently unlatching the girl from his person. He instantly realized his phrasing mistake.

“I’m always up for a story,” she bantered.

Thankfully, Ajir stepped in with a grunt. He didn’t look too happy to see the girl hugging the vile, once-terrible Allagan monster. “We had business to attend to.”

“Is everything okay?” Came Mocho’s voice from the other side of the room.

Amon turned to see the Lalafell sitting up on the edge of the bed. He looked almost fully recovered, and watched the group with his normal fatherly concern.

“We took care of it,” Ajir nodded gruffly.

Amon said nothing. For all of the Samurai’s talk of honor and truth, it was interesting to see how much Ajir would keep to himself… in order to do what he felt was protecting others.

It was time to change the topic. The Bard announced to the room cheerfully, “Oh, also… I’m happy to introduce our new healer!”

He made hand gestures to where Koh stood, holding a satchel of books, still half in the doorway. The cat-girl visibly swallowed, not used to having so many eyes on her at once. Then, she gave a bow, as if that would save her from the fate that waited.

“Ooooh!” Zuri’s eyes lit up, her face radiating with the chance to meet a new friend.

“My name is Koh Rabntah,” she introduced herself with a shaky voice. “I admit that I’ve been more involved with the study side of scholarly things, but I will do my best to heal for you.”

Mocho smiled gently, sensing the cat-girl’s timidness. “Welcome. I’m happy for any help you can provide.”

“There’s nothing to worry about,” Zuri offered to help Koh with her bags. “We’re all learning together, honestly.”

“Thank you,” Koh bowed again, relinquishing her luggage to the Au Ra.

Amon left Zuri to work her magic on the shy soul, and walked into the sick room, looking at Mocho. “How are you feeling?”

“Better.” The Lalafell squinted up at him, motioning to the healing wound on the Bard’s head. “You look like you took a bit of a scratch during that fight, too.”

_Drat his keen eye…_

“Oh this…” Amon tried to laugh it off nervously. “I’m fine. It’s taken care of.”

Mocho’s gaze flicked to Ajir, then back to Amon. There was something knowing there, as if he could see right through everything they said. It made the Elezen a little uncomfortable.

“I’m glad you came back, Amon,” the Lalafell finally said.

This made Ajir stop short, too.

Then, Mocho laughed sadly. That weird disarming juxtaposition between age and youth all his kind had. “I wish I could say I fared better. I’m sorry for worrying you.”

“As long as you’re healing, that’s what’s important,” Amon swallowed down the unease, trying to sound natural and cheerful.

“Maybe I should go back to Ul’dah and train…”

“Nonsense,” Ajir stopped him. “We’ve just recruited a healer.”

“That’s right,” Amon agreed. “Why don’t we see what happens with a healer around? Koh could use some confidence boosting, herself.”

This seemed to hit the right buttons for Mocho. He turned to where the girls were deep in their own conversation, a softness written on his face. Finally, he answered, “Okay. We can try.”

“There you go,” the Bard leaned back with a satisfied grin.

Zuri suddenly shouted from the other side of the room. “KAMI ABOVE!”

Ajir looked startled.

The girl ran into the middle of them all, moving her hands in circles. “Do you know what this means?”

“No, what?” Amon watched her, trying to hide is amusement.

“We have enough people to start a Free Company!”

The Samurai groaned into his hand. “This again?”

Zuri tugged on his sleeve. “Come on! Come on! It would be fun!”

“A… what?” Amon asked.

“It’s a formalized group of Eorzean adventurers who work together under one standard. I suppose you could also call it a guild.” Mocho explained. “She’s been wanting to do this since forever, but…”

“We haven’t had enough people until now!” Zuri finished. “Pleeeeeease?!”

The Lalafell sighed. “For you, Zuri.”

“Koh???” Excited, the Au Ra grabbed the cat-girls hands.

“I’ve never… I mean…” The Scholar didn’t seem to know what to say. “No one’s ever invited me to… something this important before.”

“So that’s a yes?”

“I…” Koh glanced up, unable to resist any more than the rest of them. “Why not.”

Zuri looked at the Samurai next. “Ajiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii?”

The dark Au Ra groaned, but gave in more quickly than expected. “If I must.”

Now she turned to the Bard. “Amon!”

“Hold on. I’m not sure if I’m ready to commit myself to any one specific thing. I mean…”

Zuri grabbed his arm. “You don’t have to stay forever. Just give it a try.”

He shook his head. This was more than he expected.

Seeing she was losing this round, Zuri pulled out the big guns, “I’ll let  _you_  pick the name.”

Amon paused, ears quivering slightly. “Really?”

“You can name it  _anything_  you want,” she coaxed.

In the background, Ajir was waving his hands at her in a  _‘No! No!’_ motion.

“Anything?” the Bard echoed.

_“Anything.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amon D'Syrcus and friends are my in-game characters can be found on the Mateus RP server in FFXIV. You can also check out https://spotofmummery.tumblr.com to see more Allagan Nonsense, character memes, or interact with Amon if that pleases you!


End file.
